


Bridge Over Troubled water

by Malcifer



Category: Midnight Cowboy (1969)
Genre: Ableism, Canon Disabled Character, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malcifer/pseuds/Malcifer
Summary: This work was originally inspired by Oklahomieee’s “Won’t let you leave my love behind” fic so suggest you give that a read first, but it’s also going to be its own thing respectively.
Relationships: Joe Buck/Rico "Ratso" Rizzo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 16





	1. Hospital soap

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I won't let you leave my love behind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945186) by [oklahomieeee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oklahomieeee/pseuds/oklahomieeee). 



Rico had never liked hospitals, the doctors were condescending bastards and you never got any real privacy. Not to mention the boredom. Confined to a bed for nearly a week, a nice case of pneumonia with a bit of septicaemia on the side apparently. Joe had been good though visiting him when he could, he had been more than a little distressed that Rico had almost no memory of the bus journey. 

“I was confused Joe, the doctor said it causes that. I remember bits and pieces but the whole thing was like a fever dream.” 

“I still feel dumb for not knowing how sick you were.” Retorted Joe, anxiously fiddling with the bed sheet. 

“Ah, don’t get sore Joe I didn’t even know how bad it was, course that comes from being sick my whole damn life!” 

Joe looked at him pensively. “But you remember me telling you I was gonna look out for you, right?” He asked, eyes wide with concern. 

Rico patted Joe’s shoulder and left his hand to rest on the bed sheets, amicably close to the other's. “Yeah, I remember, don't worry.” He looked up sharply and pointed at Joe with his free hand. “That doesn’t mean I wanna be treated like some kid though, you hear me!” 

Joe snorted at this. “Okay, okay.” He said putting his hands up in mock defence. “But I tell you what, when you was real sick on that bus, I did honestly think about wrapping you up and taking care of you, just so you’d be okay.” He finished, blushing slightly.

Rico flushed in return. “Christ Joe, don’t say embarrassing shit like that!”

Joe chuckled softly and side-hugged Rico with one arm, pulling him towards his chest and his chin resting on Rico’s head. “I’m just glad you’re okay is all.” He paused. “They wash your hair while you were here?” He asked. 

Rico rested wearily against Joe’s collar and closed his eyes. “Yeah, but only with that cheap hospital soap.” He said.

Joe rubbed his hand idly up and down Rico’s arm as he thought. “Mmh... Have to get some of that nice shampoo from the store.” He said thoughtfully. 

Rico was vaguely aware of Joe still talking to him, but the antibiotics and pain meds they’d given him were in his own opinion, truly kicking his ass. On the bright side, he thought, be out of the hospital in a couple of days, but I probably won’t be well again for a while. Being in a slightly medicated state Rico allowed himself to enjoy the image of Joe helping him wash his hair if he couldn’t manage it, not that different from cutting Joe’s hair he supposed. Faintly Rico heard the tap on the doctor’s expensive shoes on the linoleum, coming down the hallway. He cleared his throat and lightly pushed Joe away to put some distance between them; Joe stood up quickly, just as the doctor walked in. 

“Well Mr Rizzo your results are looking good, you should be home by Sunday, however it will still take four to six weeks for your lungs to recover. So don’t do anything too strenuous, I might also suggest you stop smoking all together.” Said the doctor, he was either younger than both of them and had just been born into the kind of money that gets you a medical degree before you’re thirty or he was older and had never faced the hardships of life that will prematurely age a person.

Rico made a disgruntled noise that was neither in an agreement or disagreement.

“Also considering your medical history, I would suggest that you start using a wheelchair.” He finished.

Rico tensed up at that. “Hey now, my legs still work. It's just hard for me to walk sometimes. But I ain’t as if I’m paralysed.” He said slightly panicked.

The doctor smiled in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring but just made Rico feel enraged. “I understand that Mr Rizzo, that’s why I’m suggesting ambulatory wheelchair use and then moving onto a crutch as your condition improves.”

Joe spoke up. “What d’you mean by ambulatory?” 

The doctor turned to Joe. “Well it refers to being able to have a partial but not sustained ability to walk.” Seeing Joe’s continued confusion, he carried on. “Think of it like this, an individual may be able to walk for short periods of time, but in doing so it causes them a great deal of pain and wastes a lot of that individual’s energy. By utilizing a mobility aid, such as a wheelchair, it reduces the pain an individual goes through on a daily basis.” He concluded.

That individual is sat right here, thought Rico ruefully. “I gotta pay for all that then?” 

The doctor started as though he’d forgotten Rico was in the room. “It will all be on temporary loan from the hospital until your condition has improved.” He said.

Rico smiled to himself, fat chance, he thought. 

The doctor brought his hands together. “If that’s all and you gentlemen don’t have any further questions, I do have other patients.” With this he turned and left the room. 

Rico scoffed and muttered something that sounded like ‘chamer’ under his breath, but Joe wasn’t sure if it was Italian or something else.

“Hey, you found some place for us to be living?” He asked.

Joe nodded and sat back down next to Rico. “Uh huh, it’s real nice too, there’s a little garden at the front and from the window you can see rows of palm trees and if you squint you can see the ocean.” 

Rico smiled cynically at Joe’s cheeriness.  
“Mmh, Joe I can’t help but notice you didn’t exactly describe what the actual place looks like.” He said wryly.

“It’s a damn sight nicer looking than them X-flats, I’ll tell you that much boy.” He huffed curtly.

Rico cackled. His accent sure does come out more when he’s mad, he thought. Suddenly his laughter was cut short by an abrupt coughing fit. Joe brought his hand up between Rico’s shoulder blades and patted him briskly.

“Alright, Alright!” Said Rico loudly, waving Joe’s hand away. He paused, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “I’m real glad I’ve got you looking after me Joe.” He looked up at him earnestly.

Joe raised his eyebrows slightly in bemusement at the sudden shift in tone.  
“You might wish for someone else after you see our new sleeping arrangements.” Joe replied conspiratorially.

Rico’s eyes widened.  
“Joe! Wha-“

Realising the implications of his words Joe flushed.  
“I just mean we ain’t got a bed yet, just a couch.” 

Rico sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.  
“You can’t be saying stuff like that Tex, gonna give me and every other invalid in the vicinity a heart attack.” 

The comment breezed over Joe’s head.  
“What you call me?” He asked, smiling.

Rico looked away sheepishly.  
“I didn’t call you nothing.”

Joe grinned wider and ducked his head to look into Rico’s face.  
“You called me Tex.”

“So, so what? You’re not a cowboy, now or ever, so I can’t call you that no more, what’s it matter?” 

Joe was still grinning as he slung an arm over Rico’s skinny shoulder, pulling him into a friendly side hug.  
“Don’t matter at all. I like Tex just fine.”


	2. Making soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rico needs to get out more and also there’s a lot of repression happening.

In his feverish sleep Rico had dreamt of snow. He saw the white dots drift across his eyelids, their movement and speed exactly the same as those same flakes falling in New York, struck bright orange by the streetlights before melting on the pavement into slush. Gradually the dots began to fade, all seemed to be dark and quiet. He noticed that his chest seemed to hurt less, maybe that means this is it, he thought, I hope Joe will be okay without me.

When his mother died Rico remembered his sister telling him about the funeral, he had still been too sick back then. That wasn’t fair was it? To miss so many important things on account of being sick. She explained that before the funeral their mother was washed in a special pool and then wrapped in a white sheet. He liked the sound of that, maybe I could be washed in the ocean, he reflected deliriously. There had been a special prayer that his sister told him about, something to do with angels but he couldn’t remember it now for the life of him. He was too exhausted. Breaking through his delirium he felt his body shifting being moved and the specific vibrations of someone speaking to him, but they may as well have been talking through a wall of sleep for all that he could understand them. Suddenly a sharp piercing noise made him flinch, but not wake. What was that, some type of gull or seabird? He wondered. Maybe I’ll be an albatross next time, thought Rico as he slipped into total unconsciousness. 

That was then, this was now. Rico had been out of the hospital almost a week now, he was still coughing but apparently that was normal for the next three weeks and if it didn’t stop by then he’d have to go back for treatment. And that wasn’t really something he and Joe could afford so he’d begrudgingly agreed to stop smoking, just long enough until his lungs recovered. However no longer smoking and being stuck in their little ground level flat, while Joe worked, soon made themselves evident. Rico found himself easily bored and irritable, he needed to not be surrounded by these damn pink walls. Joe had managed to procure a new, to them at least, second-hand radio so that Rico would have something to listen to while Joe was out gardening and doing handiwork. It was damn fiddle-y, in Rico’s opinion and now the asinine advertisement got on his nerves. The weather reports were reassuring though.

“-Checking south Florida weather for you here, variable cloudiness and highs in the mid seventies heading towards the sixties later this evening. Right now it’s sixty-six in Coral Gable, seventy in Oakland park and on the beach it’s sixty-nine at Disco ninety-six.” Reported the crackly voice cheerily. 

Mid seventies in goddamn January, imagine that. Still Rico found himself bored and irritable, penned in by these damn pink walls. The apartment, as Joe now insisted calling it, was certainly cleaner than their previous place; Rico made sure of that. He’d developed a slightly neurotic habit of near constant tidying, it’s not as if he liked being messy before but now washing the dishes or wiping down the surfaces gave him something to do with his hands that wasn’t holding a cigarette. 

“Joe I told you, take your boots off at the door, I don’t want all bits of wet grass sticking to the floorboards!” He called from the kitchen table as Joe entered, still in his work clothes.

“You’re certainly more spry today.” He said not without fondness. 

“I’m getting sick of being stuck in here, I’ve been re-ranging all the furniture today for something to do.” Rico continued, aggressively slicing potatoes which were laid on a linen dish towel to protect the table. 

Joe chuckled and headed over to join him.  
“How about we go out tomorrow, down to the broad walk or something don’t that sound good?” He nudged Rico lightly with his elbow.  
“I ain’t got no work tomorrow anyhow, nobody wants their lawn cut on a Sunday, they’re still in bed and there ain’t nothing worse than being woken up by a lawnmower.” 

Secretly, because if he told Joe this he’d never shut up ever, Rico liked when Joe talked about absolutely nothing. It was more engaging than having the radio on at least. He glanced over at Joe surreptitiously, only to find that Joe must have been doing the same as he quickly turned his gaze over towards the stove. He had noticed Joe looking at him a little longer than usual, it seemed like most everything they did together seemed to go on that extra bit longer than how most fellas allowed for. Sometimes he really was just too tired but other times he did let his hands rest in Joe’s for an extended period of time when he helped him chair if his legs really weren’t cooperating that day. There was also a decided avoiding of eye contact when Joe helped Rico get dressed in the mornings, which Rico shortly realised wasn’t any sort of disgust but a fresh kind of bashfulness in his friend.

His mind drifted back to the other morning when he’d been insisting that he could fasten his own buttons for Christ’s sake, and had grabbed at Joe’s wrists only to suddenly lock eyes with an extremely flushed Texan, who promptly looked away sharply. Rico became uncomfortably aware of the position himself and Joe were in, that being Joe’s large hands gripping Rico’s half open shirt as he loomed over him. Rico had almost said something. A halfhearted “Joe.” Would probably have been enough to make them acknowledge this, whatever this was between the two of them. But Joe easily slid his wrists out of Rico’s grip and headed out without a word. He didn’t look Rico in the eye until later that evening.

“What’re you making now?” Joe asked presently, gesturing to the stove.

Rico leaned back in his chair leisurely and smiled at Joe, allowing himself to shake off his earlier reflections.  
“I’m making minestrone soup, because it’s the nicest, easiest soup in the world.”

Joe paused in mock-thoughtfulness.  
“I dunno my Grandma’s creamed corn chowder was pretty good.”

Rico jokingly pointed the vegetable knife at him.  
“Don’t ever even bring up creamed corn anything next to minestrone soup.” He said pointedly.

Joe snorted with a laugh.  
“What’s in it then?” He asked, getting up to examine the pot on the stove; which contained a simmering red liquid.

Rico sliced the last potato and turned back to Joe.  
“It’s vegetable stock, tomato paste, garlic paste and now it’s got potatoes in it.” With that he slid the potatoes onto a plate and passed them to Joe who dropped them into the soup. 

“I need you to open that tin of mixed beans, while I get that conchiglie you got me the other day.”

“Huh?” Said Joe eloquently as he struggled with the tin opener.

“Shell pasta.” Rico replied dismissively. 

Joe nodded, dug out a spoonful of beans from the can and offered it towards Rico.  
“You want this just right in the soup?”

“Uh huh.” Was all Rico said in response as he wheeled himself over to the counter to reach for the pasta, vaguely he was aware of the radio still playing.

“You are the sunshine of my life - that’s why I’ll always stay around -“

Rico smiled to himself as he measured the pasta out in a mug before turning to Joe.  
“Hey Tex, you know that they make all these by hand so they're all different sizes. The little ones are called conchigliette and the big ones are called conchiglioni.”

Joe grinned and Rico knew he was about to say something that would annoy him immensely.  
“Well I guess you’re my conchigliette.” He said grinning and absolutely mangling the pronunciation.

Rico did know whether to laugh, do a double take or both. So he settled for throwing one of the dry pasta pieces at Joe, who dodged it still laughing. Dumb cowboy’s gonna kill me one of these days if he keeps on like that, thought Rico shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone thank you for you’re lovely comments (PS if there’s any spelling errors I wrote this at 5am so be nice) feel free to tell me what you think about this new chapter.


	3. Bad dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright this chapter has some homophobic language in it because this is Rico and he’s got a lot of internalised stuff to deal with. Thanks everyone who’s supported my fic so far, as well as made their own stuff as a result you’re all very appreciated.

Rico found himself awoken by two things, one was the pain in his leg, a dull ache that never seemed to go away and the other was a suffocating feeling of everything being too close and too hot. He could hardly breath and he felt uncomfortably compressed. Rico shifted to find that Joe had wrapped both his arms tightly around his middle and his nose was almost flush with Rico’s neck. Had he not been trapped in a suffocating prison of blankets and sweat, Rico probably would have been deeply embarrassed by their positioning but this wasn’t the first time they’d done something like this, only then it had been due to the freezing cold. With Joe flush against his back and his strong arms wrapped around him it seemed ridiculous to be doing something like this in the Florida heat. Jesus I’m gonna sweat to death, he thought. 

Joe's sleepiness meant he managed to pull away easily enough and pushed the blanket off himself. Besides him Joe stirred slightly but Rico didn’t notice; he was too busy, breathing heavily and trying to take off his vest without actually having to sit up. He glanced briefly over at the wall clock that had come with the apartment and saw that it read 6am. Having rid himself of his vest finally he tried to settled onto his back in an attempt to find a comfortable position on the couch, during all of this Joe had remained fast asleep but in his half dreaming state proceeded to reach out, slip his arm back around Rico and hold him there, the height difference meant that his face now rested against Rico’s dark hair. As soon as Rico felt Joe’s hand slide across his bare chest, he immediately froze. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest he worried he was having palpitations.

Don’t think about it, he told himself, don’t think about- His face burned as he felt Joe’s big hand sliding up to rest comfortably on his sternum. Ah God, oh Jesus Christ. Not this. He tried to recite his rosary, but the unwelcome thoughts still crept into his mind of how nice it felt to be held like this. His mind drifted back to New York, in the grimy stairwell Joe using his shirt to clean him up and how he unthinkingly went to hold onto Joe in a desperate sort of half embrace. A previously undiscovered little Florida part of his psyche pointed out that he could just enjoy this feeling, it wasn’t as if either of them had done this on purpose it had just sort of happened. And it was tempting to sink into the feeling of the warm mass of a body next to him, the comforting pressure of Joe’s arm around him. Dannazione, what the hell was he saying. This is faggot stuff and you know it Enrico. You’ll be damned for this, you’ve done a lot of bad shit but this—

“Ah!” He suddenly yelped, disturbing the dim silence of the early morning.

Joe shifted in his sleep and huffed slightly into Rico’s hair, his large hand unconsciously drifting down to Rico’s stomach.  
That was it, he had to get up, he didn’t care if it hurt his leg to get up without stretching properly like he was supposed to, he didn’t know how much of this he could take before shit got really embarrassing. He could feel the heat pooling in his gut, like drinking incredibly hot coffee on a cold day. Fortunately Rico’s leg was cooperating this morning as he lifted Joe’s arm off his torso and swung his legs over the side of the sofa bed. He dragged his hand across his face wearily. Who  
do you think you’re kidding Enrico, you know you’re really a fag. There’s no hiding it under the premise of cold weather and shitty circumstances now.

From behind Rico felt Joe become more agitated and twitch violently in his sleep, curiously he turned to see that Joe’s brow was now creased and his eyes screwed shut tighter than they had been. His hands moved spasmodically and Rico could see a slight sheen of sweat caught by the early light of dawn which was creeping through the curtains. Rico observed Joe a little longer, it was a habit he had picked up back during all those sleepless nights in New York and by now he knew what Joe’s current behaviour meant. Before he’d just wait for Joe to ultimately wake up and talk him down from his mania, but this was different because Joe had been sleeping calmly with no problem just a few moments before. Unthinkingly Rico reached out and wiped some of the perspiration away from his forehead, suddenly Joe started awake and his hand flinched out roughly grabbing Rico’s thin wrist; his eyes were wide and his breathing came fast. Joe glanced at Rico’s hand and then up at Rico’s shocked face.

“Wha-“ Joe’s voice was hoarse with sleep but his breathing was still rapid.

“You were sweating, getting all twitchy like you do sometimes.” He said softly, attempting to ease his wrist out of Joe’s tight grip. 

Joe closed his eyes and swallowed, attempting to breath steadily through his nose. Once he’d opened his eyes again his gaze flicked back up to Rico’s face in the half light, then down to his chest. Rico tried not to shiver as he felt Joe’s half-focused eyes on him.

“Where’s your vest?” 

“Took it off, just now, too hot y’know.” Rico replied quickly, avoiding Joe’s eyes.

They stayed in silence, the apartment brightening with the approaching sunrise, before Rico spoke again.  
“What’s the matter Tex, why’d you keep having these dreams?” 

“What time is it?”

Rico glanced over at the clock.  
“It’s 6:15. Don’t avoid the question, I know something’s the matter, what is it?”

Joe huffed and his mouth twisted into a frown.  
“Ain’t nothing the matter. Go back to sleep.”

Rico raised his eyebrows, smirking in annoyance.  
“Oh you’re just here shaking and sweating and you’re telling me nothing’s the matter. Huh?” He could still see the tension in Joe’s shoulders. “That’s real smart Joe, we both know where that sort of thing landed me.”

Joe looked moodily up at him sharply. Okay maybe that was a little mean but it got his attention, Rico thought.

“That ain’t funny boy.” Joe said curtly. “It ain’t like I’m sick or anything.”

“Then what’s up with you? Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always been having these nightmares.” He paused, before continuing cautiously. “Something happen in New York?”

Joe looked away towards the curtained window. “Not in New York.” 

Rico waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Rico found himself at a loss, he wasn’t sure what he could say or do that would help Joe right now.  
“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He said finally.

Joe shook his head as he began to sit up. “It’s alright, probably would’ve happened anyway.”

“You know you can talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on in that big blonde head of yours.” Rico said seriously. “We both take care of each other, you got that.”

Once he was propped up against one of the couch arms Joe smiled down at Rico.  
“I know, I know.” He replied grinning lazily.

Not for the first time, Rico thought about how pleasant it had been to be in Joe’s arms and how much he wanted Joe to kiss him. He cleared his throat aloud, as if to dispel the thoughts.  
“How about we go down to the beach. There probably won’t be too many people there this early.” 

Joe gave him an odd look.  
“What right now?”

Rico shrugged noncommittally.  
“We’re both awake, why not.” 

Joe cocked his head coly at him, giving Rico a once over glance.  
“You gonna go in the ocean?” He asked teasingly.

When the topic had come up previously Rico had made it clear that he had no intention of going in the sea due to its unhygienic, overcrowded nature and his own inability to swim. 

Rico scoffed.  
“Come on Tex get dressed and we’ll head out.”

Joe laughed and smiled widely at him, all thoughts of nightmares and bad pasts seemingly forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again feel free to add comments, perhaps of what you’d like to see in future chapters :)


	4. Florida sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You asked for it they’re at the beach. I really wish I were at the beach if you couldn’t tell by this fic.

It was a little milder than usual with the sun not yet up. But there was something to be appreciated in quietness if the early morning, the gentle sounds of the sea and distant calls of the gulls high above were all that could be heard. Occasionally a car would drive past in no great hurry, it seemed almost nobody in Miami had any particular plans for this early on a Sunday morning. The previously blue sky seemed to have been drained of all vibrancy and the colours replaced with an unusual pale greenish grey but the pale glow on the horizon promised the arrival of the sun shortly. 

Rico and Joe were seemingly the only two people up this early in Miami, excluding those who never went to bed in the first place, they had to pause again as Rico slumped against a squat palm tree. The crutches he’d been given by the hospital were not as light as he’d hoped, they also seemed to have originally been made for the 95th percentile of averagely tall men, an average Rico was well aware he did not fit it. 

“I can still go back an’ get your chair if you want.” Joe offered, as Rico got his breath back.

Rico looked at him pointedly.  
“So a bunch of sand gets in the wheels, so that it rusts? So that I can’t ever use it again? Yeah that’s real smart Joe!”

Joe rolled his eyes, he was beyond being genuinely offended by Rico anymore.  
“Damn boy I was just asking.”

“I have actually used these dumb things before, and it wasn’t a whole lot of fun the first time around either.” He pushed off the tree and shifted his weight back evenly onto the crutches. “I’m alright now, we’re almost at the beach now anyway.” 

They began to walk together again silently at first, but Joe’s interest was clearly piqued.  
“So when was the first time you used them then?” He asked, completely failing to mask the curiosity in his voice.

Before Rico would have gotten annoyed by people asking about him being sick: other kids at his school, noisy parents of said kids, noisy people in general. But Joe wasn’t like that, he just genuinely wanted to know practically anything and everything about him. Oddly enough however Rico sometimes felt as though there were bits of Joe’s past that he deliberately didn’t talk about. Even when Rico asked. Who was this Annie girl anyway? Why don’t you ever wanna talk about Houston? It was a fruitless endeavour trying to get Joe to speak about any of it. Maybe someday but not right now. 

“When I was recovering in hospital and a little time after that. I had a brace on my leg and everything. Didn’t have to go in one of them, whatchu call it, iron lung situations though. That was lucky.” He said simply, glancing upwards to observe the black-headed gulls pinwheeling across the sky.

“Betchu’ must’ve been a real scrawny little thing huh?” 

Rico narrowed his eyes at him.  
“Yeah I was, which meant I learnt pretty fast that you can do real damage to a person’s shins with these if they seem like they’re gonna try anything.” 

Joe laughed and grinned fondly at Rico.  
“Yeah I bet.” 

Rico avoided his warm gaze and looked out over the bay. The sun still wasn’t quite up yet but it was making an attempt, the orange glow gradually diffusing into the pale dawn and reflecting across the water. There were no people on the beach, which was an unusual sight in a place usually so packed with tourists. There was however a flock of small grey and white seabirds shifting through the surf with their sharp orange beaks. It suddenly hit Rico that he could see the ocean, actually really here not just in some fantasy whilst on a cold street corner waiting for Joe. Even in the half light he could see the stark colour divide between the azure shallows and the dark blue deep waters beyond. He stood for a moment transfixed by the waves as they broke gently against the shoreline, then flinched as Joe’s hand clapped down onto his shoulder. 

“That spot over there looks good don’t you think?” He said pointing with his free hand. “You think you can make it?”

Rico knew he wasn’t trying to be condescending but it sure felt like it  
Sometimes. He shrugged Joe’s hand off.  
“Yeah I can make it.” He replied curtly. 

They made their way across the sand, Rico noted irritably that the soft, shifting ground did make it harder going but he’d wasn’t about to admit that. He also noticed with a great deal more suspicion that Joe was setting up their towels pretty close to the shore itself.

“I’ve already said I’m not going in the goddamn ocean Joe.” 

Joe looked up from arranging the towels.  
“Aw come on Rico, just in the shallow bit.” 

“No, not happening. Now help me sit down.”

Joe took Rico’s hand in his and braced his shoulder with the other, steadily helping to lower him to the ground. Once he was seated: he placed his crutches on the ground nearby, fished the sunglasses he’d lifted earlier in the week out of his shirt pocket, put them on and laid back watching the clouds drift past.

“Well I’m going in.” 

Rico propped himself up and raised his sunglasses, about to give some annoyed retort but found he had nothing to say as he watched Joe pull off his T-shirt and toss it onto the towel next to him. Christ he really is built isn’t he, thought Rico before covering his eyes again and cringing at his thoughts with palpable shame. His eyes remained fixed on the clouds, especially when he heard the metal clink of Joe’s belt as he took his jeans off.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Joe asked in that puppy dog sort of way, just like when Rico had first met him in the bar.

Rico steeled himself, this was ridiculous it’s a beach people walk around half-naked at a beach all the time, Christ women walk around half-naked most of Florida and it’s never been like this. He decidedly ignored the unhelpful judgment his subconscious had provided on what exactly that meant for him, and sat up. Rico was distantly reminded of seeing a poster with Paul Newmann in a similar pose to what Joe was doing now. One hand on his hip and the other at his side, looking down at him. The main difference was that Paul Newmann hadn’t just been wearing his boxers. The rising sun had struck Joe side-on turning his skin golden and his blond hair into a halo, Rico looked away quickly. It was all a little bit too similar to other daydreams he’d had, ones that he’d always tried to justify that they’d been about coming here to Florida. 

“Yes I’m sure goddamn it.” More annoyed at himself than Joe.

“Alright.” Replied Joe, and shrugged indifferently unaware of Rico’s mental struggle. 

It was times like this, thought Rico, that I really wish I could smoke. He laid back down onto the towel and saw that the sun was creeping further over the horizon now, causing the turquoise water to glimmer as all the grey began to drain from the world. The sky became more blue, the clouds, scarce that they were, drifted by as huge cream affairs that would soon evaporate into nothing as the day heated up. Distantly Rico heard a splash as Joe presumably dived straight into the water. Another one of the black-headed gulls soared overhead, the sunlight glinting off its red beak. Maybe it’d be good to know they’re names, same for the other seabirds, Rico considered idly, put a name to a face. Sure his leg still hurt from walking on it, so did his chest but not as bad as it had been, but right now he was probably the most relaxed he’d been in his entire, exhausting little life. 

After a couple minutes Rico opened his eyes slowly, not even realising he’d drifted off. It was a little warmer and brighter now and Joe was stood over, his hair slightly damp.

“You gotta come in at least a little bit boy, the water’s not even cold.” 

Rico huffed through his nose. Joe clearly wasn’t gonna drop this.  
“Alright, alright fine.” He levelled a finger out at Joe. “But I’m not going in no deep water.” 

Grinning contentedly Joe replied.  
“Just up to our waists then.”

“Your waist is higher up than my waist, that don’t mean jack.” 

Joe snorted and sat down on the opposite towel, as Rico got undressed. Truthfully he would have preferred if Joe had gone back into the water, it wasn’t as if Joe hadn’t helped him get changed a couple times when he really wasn’t feeling up to it. However Joe wasn’t usually also in his boxers, which now gave a different kind of charged feeling to the whole thing. Deliberately focusing on unbuttoning his patterned shirt Rico didn’t notice Joe glancing across at him, at his hands, his face. That is until he turned to look up and was met with Joe’s big blue eyes. He had been that close before.

“What?” 

Joe cocked his head and gave him a strange smile.  
“Just wondering if you needed any help there?” 

Rico regarded him suspiciously, that was… That was saying something without actually saying it. Offering without offering. He scoffed, no it wasn’t, couldn’t be. Even if Joe had been with guys for work, he wouldn’t be interested in him for Christ’s sake. 

“No thanks. I’m fine.” He said finally, shucking his shirt and tossing it over the crutches to hide them.

“You gonna keep your vest on in the ocean?” 

Rico ignored him and bit his tongue on saying, Jeez you don’t miss a thing do ya, because that would be acknowledging that he knew Joe was watching him on purpose. Instead he cuffed his pants into knee-length shorts and turned to Joe, extending a hand out.

“Can you give me a hand getting up or at least be vaguely useful?” He asked sardonically.

Joe snickered and Rico braced his hands on Joe’s sun-warmed forearms until they were both standing. It was not lost on Rico that he only came up to Joe’s sternum and he wasn’t sure if this was worse than having to actually look him in the eye. Together they made their way to the shore, Rico was suddenly struck with a long forgotten memory of his older sister taking him to the ‘gait assessment’ at the local clinic to see if he could walk without needing a brace. His father hadn’t been there, too busy working and his mother… well. But he remembered his sister Sofia stood at the other end of the hall, smiling at him and then scooping him up and saying “You did it Enrico! You’re so strong.” When he made it to the other side without falling. She couldn’t have been that much older than him maybe four, five years older; eleven years to his six. 

Now with Joe’s hand on his back and the other facing outwards to act as a substitute crutch, approached the waves and felt the water come up to his ankles. Joe was right, it wasn’t cold at all, in fact it felt nice.

“You alright there boy?” He asked softly.

Rico sniffed. “Yeah I just got some fucking sand in my eye or something.” He said irritability, rubbing away the moisture from his eye.

“Alright, alright. If you say so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As all always gimme comments I love to get feedback and that’s for supporting my fic writing.


	5. Making friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Internalised homophobia sucks everyone. Warning for homophobic language. Still not too much angst in this one hope you enjoy.

The water had been nice enough, not too cold and Rico hadn’t needed to worry about putting weight on his bad leg. The constant rhythm of it had felt good too but it also skeeved him out a little. It felt like a living thing, something that wanted to pull him out further with it’s sucking pressure around his legs. Eventually Joe conceded that they’d been in long enough when the first early bird tourists started to arrive at the beach. 

Joe and Rico had laid on their towels allowing their clothes and skin to dry in the sunlight. After a while Rico sat up and observed the colourful spectacle the shoreline had become, if he squinted the ever growing sea of bikinis, trunks, swimming costumes, water wings and beach balls all seemed to homogenise into one mass of colour under the blinding sun. He glanced down at Joe who was laying on his front, resting his head sideways on his folded arms. If Rico really tried to rationalise it and God help him he was trying, these feelings he was experiencing, they came from a perfectly reasonable need to be touched by another person. He’d been on his own for a while before Joe, so back then the feeling hadn’t been so intense, but now with these small intimate moments that kept cropping up. He just wasn’t used to it, the closeness overwhelmed him. He’d been sick, hell most of his life, but this time it had nearly killed him. He had been in a weakened state and needed comfort, any sort of comfort, to remind him that he was still a human being goddamn it. 

He allowed himself the indulgence of gazing along the nape of Joe’s tanned neck and across the expanse of his back. This was where his inner supposing’s fell apart because it was one thing to want somebody to be kind to you, especially after a life of harshness, but it was something else entirely to want to trace your hand down their spine. Rico gripped the corner of the towel at the thought. He tried looking away but the image refused to leave his head, he knew how smooth and sun-warmed Joe’s skin would be from the feeling of his forearms against Rico’s palms when Joe helped him walk. He stared fiercely out at the waves and decidedly did not think about earlier this morning when Joe held him close. Yeah but that wasn’t on purpose, he thought desperately, Joe didn’t do that deliberately. Like anyone would deliberately want to do that with you, Rico began to spiral from there.

He remembered the first night he’d invited to stay with him and Joe woke up sweating like a horse, making paranoid demands.  
“Well you want me to stay here. You’re after something… What you after?  
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? That he was that lonely for company, that he genuinely felt sorry for Joe.  
“You don’t look like no fag.” 

Now in the present, a part of him laughed bitterly. Yeah I guess you don’t look like one huh Enrico. He rubbed at his forehead, gradually becoming aware of a headache forming behind his eyes. Rico shrugged his shirt back on roughly, wincing at the stinging, roughness it produced against his upper arms. Terrific, he thought, something else wrong with me. Besides him Joe stirred awake as he was pulling his shoes back on, he rolled over drowsily and yawned. 

“You ready for off, boy?” Joe drawled, stretching out leisurely. 

Just then Rico really could have slapped upside his big blonde head, but he didn’t because then he would’ve had to explain himself. Instead he nodded curtly and laced up his shoes. He heard Joe fumble around getting dressed as Rico positioned his crutches evenly, promptly Joe appeared in front of him and lifted him up onto his feet. Rico tried very hard to not think about Joe’s big hands around his middle as he was helped to stand. 

Joe raised an eyebrow at him.  
“You alright there? You’re pretty tense.”

A few dozen thoughts ran through his head at that moment, but he decided just to state the obvious.  
“I’m tired Joe.” 

There must have been something extremely world-weary in the way he said it because Joe chuckled a little, before retrieving and shaking the sand off the towels. 

“Alright, come on then.”

The late morning Florida sun beat down on Rico and Joe as they walked along the sidewalk for a little while. Rico noticed two people, one about Rico’s height with their back to them and holding a cane. The other was a taller woman with long black hair, gesturing to the first but not saying anything, seemingly bickering about where to stick up flyers. 

“Look-“ The shorter one readjusted their cane to the crook of their elbow so they could seemingly gesture more easily. “-If someone’s in a wheelchair then the poster needs to be lower down.” Their conversation was punctuated with the movement of their hands. The woman responded in turn, still not saying anything but frowning irritably as she signed. Oh she’s probably deaf, though Rico. Suddenly the woman looked over at Rico and Joe, before tapping her friend on the shoulder and gesturing at them. The shorter of the two spun around, they were wearing a silver necklace that glinted in the sun, Rico recognised it as a Magen David. 

“Hey I’m Ramone by the way and this is my friend Maria. Can you sort something out for us?” They asked.

Rico had lived in New York long enough to know what a butch chick looked like, but before he could say something that really only served to distance himself from parts of himself he didn’t like, Joe piped up.

“Well sure.” 

Ramone smiled at both of them.  
“Great. Now if you were in a wheelchair-“

Rico cut them off.  
“I am in a chair sometimes, just not today.” 

Maria signed again, a questioning expression on her face. Her friend signed in return wordlessly. Her expression changed to one of slight smugness and even with Rico’s limited grasp of sign language he under her gestures as ‘told you so.’

“Even better, that means you’ve got first hand experience.” Said the Ramone turning back to them, decidedly ignoring their friend. “Now then, when you’re in your wheelchair is it easier to read stuff that’s at eye-level for when you’re sitting or at eye-level for when you’re standing.” 

Rico to his credit did genuinely think about it.  
“I dunno maybe it’s easier when all on the same level. I mean, I could probably read something if I had to but it’d mean leaning back a bit.”

“Or I could read it.” Said Joe.

Rico looked at him.  
“Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves Joe, we both know reading ain’t your strong suit.”

Anger flashed across Joe's face, as well as genuine hurt that Rico would say something like that in front of people they’d only just met.

“Why you dyslexic or something?” Asked Ramone, casually leaning on their cane.

Joe turned back towards them.  
“What’s that?”

“Dyslexia, it means you can’t always visualise the words properly so you end up reading things in the wrong order or missing letters out.” 

Joe’s eyes widened in realisation.  
“That’s a thing.”

Ramone grinned at him.  
“Well sure.” They promptly rifled through their satchel and produced a flyer. “That’s why we printed these on yellow paper, makes them easier to read.” And handed one to Joe. 

Maria signed again. Ramone huffed before mimicking her sign and saying “Should have put Braille on them then.” In a slightly mocking tone. “Yeah well, the library photocopier doesn’t have that setting.” 

Rico glanced over the flyer which read.  
‘Join Disabled In Action today’ In large block letters, then information about where to meet and what time.

Maria resentfully stuck one of the flyers to the wooden fence at around the height of someone sitting down. 

“We’re at the Miami public library, next Saturday, so try and come it’d be good to see you guys again.” Said Ramone and with that they gave a wave and headed towards the crossing.

“Sure thing.” Said Joe grinning.

Rico looked at him sharply.  
“What the hell you say that for?”

Joe turned to him.  
“Well they both seem nice enough and we don’t know a whole lot of people.” He shrugged. “Besides didn’t you notice how alike you and that little guy were?”

Rico shook his head, what the hell was that supposed to mean.  
“Joe that wasn’t a guy-“

He was cut off by the screech of tires and the blare of a horn, as a car tried to cut through a red light.

“Hey asshole, the fuck you think you’re doing?” Ramone’s expression was one of righteous fury.

The driver leaned out and yelled back.  
“What are you deaf?”

“No but my friend is.” They sneered whilst flipping off the driver and continued briskly walking across the road. 

Joe tipped his head and grinned in a way that seemed to say. ‘See?’ Without actually saying it. 

“Shut up Joe.” Said Rico irritably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maria’s signs aren’t translated because neither Rico or Joe understand ASL but here’s what she said:
> 
> “That’s too low.”  
> “Not everyone uses a wheelchair so the flyers should be- (notices Rico and Joe) look maybe let’s get a second opinion?”  
> “What did he say?”  
> “See I told you so.”  
> “Should have printed them in Braille then.”


	6. Sunburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s right I cranked up the rating up just for this one. You’re really gonna see why in the next chapter. Also I’ve managed to write 3,462 words in 24 hours so I think I need to apologise to any college professor that I made wait for an essay.

The day dragged along as long, lazy Sundays are often want to do. They’d gotten lunch from a cheap little sandwich shop, Joe had chicken salad and Rico had fried sardine. Eventually Rico got too tired to walk so they headed back to their apartment. The heat of the day had seemingly baked itself into the walls, so upon opening the door they were met with a wall of heat. Rico slumped down heavily on the couch, whilst Joe flicked on the fan and went about pushing the curtains apart, letting in the mid-afternoon sun and opening the window to relieve the stuffiness. 

Rico tipped his head back on the couch in exhaustion and watched Joe out of the corners of his eye.  
“You serious about going to that disabled in action thing?” He asked. 

Joe turned his hands on his hips.  
“Well sure, but only if you want to.” He paused and smiled. “I ain’t going nowhere without my buddy.” 

Rico scoffed and ran his hand over his face up into his hair wearily.  
“Could you get me some water?” He said quietly.

Joe looked a little worried.  
“Sure thing, you okay there?” 

He went over and filled a mug from the sink, then handed it to Rico. He took it gratefully and drank a little before putting it down.

“Just a little worn out is all.”

Joe chewed at the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.  
“Mmh I suppose we was up a little early.” He gave Rico a once over. “And you're probably more than a little overheated too I’ll bet.”

Rico shrugged as Joe sat down next to him. 

“Hey can you turn towards me?” Joe asked softly.

Rico did so unthinkingly, his eyes widening as he watched as Joe began to unbutton his shirt. It’s fine, you're too tired to do this right now anyway, he thought. Even so his heart pounded so hard in his chest he was worried Joe would be able to hear it, never mind feel it. It’s just Joe why are you freaking out, he’s not gonna try anything. Meanwhile Joe had unfastened all his buttons and was now sliding the shirt off his shoulders. But what if he did, Rico felt his breath stutter at that, what if he just slid his hand under your shirt and around your waist. Nope, he couldn’t be thinking about this. What if he kissed your neck while he did it. Rico could imagine it so well, try as he might not to. Joe’s big hands pressed against the thin material of his vest, the weight of his broad chest flush with his. How his lips felt against his skin.

Joe’s eyes flicked up to his face, no longer concentrating on the buttons.  
“Shee-it boy, you must’ve been real warm. You’ve gone all red.” He placed a hand on Rico’s forehead. “You feeling okay?” 

Rico flinched at the unexpected contact, broken out of his reverie. He cleared his throat, decidedly avoiding Joe’s questioning eyes.  
“Y- Yeah, Yeah I’m fine. Like I said, just a little tired.” 

Joe regarded him skeptically.  
“Okay then.”

***  
Afternoon gave way to evening, the temperature dropped slightly but the humidity didn’t. Rico noticed during dinner Joe was a little twitchy and fidgety but didn’t say anything. The evening turned into night and the pair started getting ready for bed, almost all the lights were off except the one in the bathroom, which stretched a long yellow strip across the floor. Thereby providing a little illumination to the now dim apartment.

“Oh I don’t wanna go to work tomorrow.” He heard Joe say unhappily from the bathroom. 

Joe was generally feeling sorry for himself Rico noted. He was observing himself shirtless in the bathroom mirror in a miserable manner, occasionally twisting to see his back and then wincing as the tight, red skin stretched uncomfortably. 

“What’s the matter now?” Rico asked finally, stretching a fresh sheet over the sofa cushions.

“Got sunburned pretty bad on the beach.” He said simply.

Rico nodded.  
“Yep I got a little too on my arms but I kept my vest on so it wasn’t as bad.” 

“My grandma, she’d always put aloe and cold washcloth on it. Clear right up the next day.” 

Rico shook the pillows into order.  
“Uh huh, well we ain’t got no aloe fella.” He glanced over to see Joe drinking from the tap, he wished he wouldn’t god knows it must be unhygienic. Before running a flannel under the water and then wringing out the excess. Rico found himself transfixed as he watched Joe’s reflection pat himself down, leaving glistening spots of moisture across his torso. Suddenly he became aware of Joe’s eyes on him watching him watch Joe. Rico swallowed and turned back to the couch. He heard Joe pad over to him, and saw that he still had the wet flannel. 

“Could you get my back? I can’t reach it and it’s the worst burnt.” He asked so incredibly softly, that he may well have been whispering, like he was afraid Rico might bolt like a spooked animal if he spoke too loud. “I probably won’t be able to sleep otherwise.” He presented the flannel to Rico, who took it wordlessly, and pulled Joe down onto the couch to sit in front of him. Rico felt the water trickle down his wrist and realised he was squeezing the cloth into a fist unintentionally. He tried to relax his grip, before sliding the flannel across Joe’s shoulder blades. Rico honestly thought he would stop breathing when he felt Joe shiver under his touch, he could feel the heat of Joe’s skin even through the flannel. All his nerves felt electrified as he continued to slide the washcloth over the worst of the sunburn. He swallowed again as he dragged it down Joe’s spine. 

Joe’s head lolled as he sighed in relief.  
“Damn that feels good Rico.”

Rico closed his eyes. Marone, he really wished Joe wouldn’t say shit like this to him. It sent a weird thrill through him. His hands trembled and he found himself unable to continue. It was just too much. 

Joe turned to face him.  
“Why’d you stop?” 

Rico figured he must have looked a state, like a frightened rabbit, his expression illuminated by the bathroom light. Joe stared at him quizzically. The words just wouldn’t come. Joe does so much for you, he thought, and you can’t even do one decent thing for him without corrupting it. The thoughts ran havoc through this mind. The idea that he was making Joe worse by being around him, tarnishing him in some way. He jumped when he felt Joe’s hand on his wrist and realised he was still holding the washcloth. 

“Rico.” Joe said earnestly. 

He really felt like he was gonna cry, he felt so stupid getting overwhelmed like this.  
“I don’t wanna be like this Joe.” He said miserably. 

“Aw shucks Rico.” Said Joe turning to embrace his friend, his long arms pulling him close. Rico slid his hands around Joe’s bare middle, his breath hitched as he felt Joe’s fingers thread through his thick hair before reaching the base of his skull and leaving it there. His other hand came up to rest against the side of his face, Joe’s thumb stroking along Rico’s jaw, tipping his head up to look at him. The action pressing their foreheads together. Rico stared up at him from under dark eyebrows. He hadn’t ever been this close to another person before, sharing the same air almost. 

Joe gazed back at him with his big baby blues.  
“Ain’t nothing wrong with this.” He said as though he’d heard Rico’s thoughts. “Ain’t nothing wrong with us.” He leaned slightly forward and then stopped, looking curiously at Rico. Then he kissed him. Softly, chastely, barely there. Rico jumped back, pushing uncomfortably against Joe’s sunburnt chest so that he hissed in discomfort. Rico could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he breathed heavily out his nose, his hands still braced against Joe’s chest. 

Joe looked crushed.  
“Sorry.” He said quietly.

Rico shook his head.  
“It ain’t your fault. It’s me. I’m bad, I - “

Joe removed Rico's hands from his chest.  
“You ain’t bad.”

“I am, I made you like this.” 

Joe cocked his head like a confused dog.  
“You think I wasn’t doing this sort of thing with guys before you?”

“Hustling don’t count.” He snapped. 

Joe smiled an odd smile.  
“Even before then, back in Texas.”

Rico briefly lost the ability to think.  
“What?” He said finally. “No wait hang on, then why’d you get so mad when I said you’re whole shtick was fag stuff?”

“Why’d you?” Joe replied breezily, grinning. “All the same, I didn’t care about any of those guys half as much as I care about you.”

Rico would have been furious if he wasn’t reeling from what Joe had just said. So instead he just stared at him.

“And I know you care about me. So you want me to kiss you again?”

Rico’s internal monologue was thankfully silent. He nodded sharply.  
“Yeah I do.” 

Joe’s hand came up to frame his face and he pressed his lips to Rico’s. He felt as though he’d touched a live wire from the way the feeling tingled all the way down his spine. Joe pulled down his jaw with his thumb slightly so that his mouth parted as Joe’s heads tilted to deepen the kiss. Rico’s hands slid gently up Joe’s back, bringing him closer whilst being mindful of his sunburn. He felt himself becoming lightheaded with need. 

“Joe, Joe c’mon.” He pleads between kisses. 

“Whatchu want?” Joe asked, his accent coming through stronger than usual.

“Joey please.” Rico wines, before freezing because if that wasn’t just the most embarrassing thing he’s ever said.

Joe grins widely at him.  
“Joey?”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Said Rico turning away from him. 

Joe chuckled and began to kiss his now exposed neck, causing Rico to squirm.  
“You like that huh.” Joe’s free hand slid up Rico’s vest a little, tracing his large hand across his bicep. 

Rico’s head swam, the novelty of the stimulation was too overwhelming.  
“Joe please - I can’t. It’s too much, I’ve got a nervous disposition I can’t deal with all this.” 

Joe backed off.  
“Okay, that’s alright.”

They both paused to catch their breath. Rico looked at him seriously.  
“You sure it’s okay?” He asked cautiously. “Because I mean, you probably wanna…”

Joe kissed along his jaw.  
“I don’t wanna do nothing, if you don’t want to.” He gazed into Rico’s eyes.

Rico felt himself relax slightly.  
“Good, because I’m exhausted.” He pointed at Joe. “And you got work tomorrow.”

Joe yawned and nodded in agreement.  
“Hey Rico - “ His expression turned shy and he fiddled with the sheet. “ - Can I hold you a little longer, it helps me sleep better.”

“Yeah I noticed.”

Joe looked at him quizzically.  
“When? I’m usually awake before you anyway.”

Previously Rico would have balked at that, but right now he was too tired to care.  
“It doesn’t matter Joe.” He yawned in turn. “Can you turn the bathroom light out?” 

Just as he was getting comfy under the thin sheets, he heard Joe hop out of their sofa bed and quickly dash to turn the light off, before slipping back under the covers.  
Rico allowed himself to be pulled back against Joe’s broad chest. Just as he was drifting off he thought he could feel the oceanic pull still on his legs, lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always share your thoughts I love to hear what people want in further chapters.


	7. Try a little tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re all adults here so I’m not gonna give you any ‘don’t like don’t read’ shtick this isn’t 2009. Also featuring canonically bisexual Joe moments.

At first Rico thinks he must still be in New York, there’s that watery greyness to everything. That all his Florida fantasies where just that, fantasies. The fixtures of the room seem to swim in and out of focus but he can tell where he is. Gradually he notices little discrepancies in the room, for one the walls were never pink in the X-flat. So he figures he’s somewhere in between. Halfway past and halfway present. Speaking of which, he watches as Joe entered in full cowboy attire, this particular outfit was the one with the nice cyan shirt patterned with bluebirds and stars. Which was exactly how he knew it was a dream, because Joe had lost that particular shirt to the hotel he’d been staying at before. A grievances Joe occasionally still liked to complain about. It was a terrific shirt though. 

Joe grinned at him as he leaned on the doorframe. Not that cheery, cartoon dog grin he gave Rico now and again when he was in a particularly good mood. His face was half hidden under his hat but Rico could see fully what that expression meant. It was his ‘there you are you handsome devil’ look which he usually reserved for his own reflection most days. Rico found it more than a little disconcerting to have it turned on him. Joe sauntered into the room and sat down heavily at one of the kitchen chairs. He motioned with his head for Rico, who was a little shocked to find himself standing unaided, to come over to him. The motion was a little strange, it seemed to take both longer than it should to reach Joe but he also found himself in front of Joe’s open legs without seemingly having moved at all. Joe watched him intently from under the brim of his hat, Rico stared back warily. Suddenly Joe hooked his fingers around Rico’s belt, pulled him forward roughly and brought Rico down so that he was straddling Joe’s lap. Rico let out an involuntary yelp as he felt something in his brain short-circuit. Mary, mother of Christ, what the hell was his subconscious trying to do to him. On the one hand never in a million years would he let Joe get away with something like this. On the other hand it was his dream. 

Joe continued to smile languidly at him, the hand that was still hooked around Rico’s belt began to trace along the outside, before absently massaging the thigh of his skinnier leg. It was a small motion but it made Rico’s face feel hotter than a match head with the implications of it. Meanwhile Joe produced a genuine pack of cigarettes, not just some old dog-end, and fished one out; slipping it easily between his lips. Oh now that wasn’t fair. Rico hadn’t been allowed to smoke for over a month now, if this was some kind of test of vices he was doomed to fail. 

Joe tugged on his belt again  
“Light it for me boy.”

Even in the muted sensations of the dream Rico felt himself genuinely shiver at that. On reflex he fumbled inside his coat pocket and produced a box of matches. Joe leaned forward as he struck one, igniting Joe’s cigarette. Rico watched wide eyed as Joe took a deep drag, the hand on his belt moved to the small of his back, pulling him closer still. Joe casually tapped some ash out onto the floor and then framed Rico face with his free hand, cigarette still balanced between two fingers and stroked his thumb down Rico’s lips, coming to rest on the bottom one, leaving his mouth slightly open. When he took his hand away Rico remained frozen in place. Then Joe took a second drag before lining up his and Rico’s lips and exhaling the smoke directly into his mouth. Not quite kissing but almost. 

Eventually he entered the strange place between dreaming and wakefulness, only vaguely aware of the encircling pressure across his chest. He felt a body next to him shifted and the closeness being removed, instinctively he weakly reached out. He almost fell back asleep again at the sensation of a hand stroking through his hair, briefly his mind drifted into dreaming once more and he dreamt Joe fully sealed the kiss and framed his face with his hands. The real world sensation of short fingernails scraping along his scalp, made him groggily open one eye. Only to see Joe leaning over him, head propped up by one hand with the other threading through Rico’s thick dark hair. He was still shirtless, Rico noted, before snapping awake suddenly once he remembered his and Joe’s previous activities. His face flushed profusely and he noted with some embarrassment that the dream, as well as simply thinking about how Joe had held him and kissed his neck, had provoked a different sort of inappropriate reaction entirely. 

Rico awkwardly shifted out of bed, eager to not dwell on the fact that his body was yet again making life difficult for him in new and annoying ways. Once he’d balanced himself upright with the help of the sofa arm, he reached for the comb on their coffee table/nightstand and began smoothing back the ruffles Joe had caused in his hair. He was vaguely aware of Joe moving behind him but was focusing all his energy on not thinking about Joe, or him and Joe, or any of it; that he didn’t really pay it any mind. He jumped as he felt Joe’s strong arms wrap around his middle in a hug as he was mid-way through combing. Suddenly he found himself pulled back down onto the bed, between Joe’s legs, his back flush with Joe’s chest. 

For a brief moment Rico lost the ability to think entirely. The sensation of hard plastic digging into his palm brought him back to himself, as he realised he was still holding the comb. He felt Joe’s broad hands slide up his chest, the press of his thighs against  
Joe’s. For a moment Joe simply rested his head on his shoulder and held him there. The early morning sun had slipped through the curtains, catching the motes of dust in the room and making them glow. 

Then Joe kissed his neck again and Rico thought he might pass out. Joe’s hands pressed him closer to his chest and Rico felt him, all of him. This makes you a fag and you know it Enrico, said that hateful voice. But he found it hard to care as Joe began to worry the skin with his teeth and then kiss the same spot as if soothing it. Rico’s head swam as he felt the blood leave his brain and head south. Joe continued to fuss over the area where his neck met his shoulder, but slowly his right hand slid down across Rico’s chest, down to his inner thigh, before placing his palm just so. Rico dropped the comb.

“You sure are excited, huh boy.” Joe said into his ear.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that. You bet I’m goddamn excited Tex, I just had the most embarrassing dream of my life where you were in your goddamn cowboy getup and then I wake up to having my hair petted which I don’t think anymore has ever done to me ever and now I can feel exactly how excited you are right up against me. But he didn’t say any of that. 

Joe palmed him through his boxers and Rico stopped breathing.  
“Can I help you out with that?” 

“You - “ His voice cracked. “You don’t have to do that.” He replied shakily. 

“I want to.” Joe said.

Rico felt dizzy. He wanted it, so badly but simultaneously he was terrified. What if Joe wanted something in return and he was bad at it. If he said no, would Joe get mad at him? He tensed with anxiety involuntary. 

Joe removed his hand and placed it on Rico’s thigh.  
“You okay there? Like I said we don’t gotta do anything you don’t want.” He said softly. 

Rico huffed through his nose.  
“It sure must be getting annoying for you, me keeping on doing this I mean.” He replied unhappily. 

Joe nestled his head against Rico’s.  
“Aw Rico, that don’t matter none.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready for this kinda thing. Not right now anyway.”

Joe’s arms tighten around him, but in a different way to before, a sort of ‘I’m here’ kind of way. He rested his forehead against the back of Rico’s head.  
“When I first started making it with with folks, I was always certain it was gonna end up with me feeling ashamed or being made a fool of - “ He paused, struggling with what he was trying to articulate. “ - I ever tell you about Bobby Desmond, ha probably not, well I thought we was real good friends but then three weeks later he got married and didn’t even invite me to the wedding.” 

He said this last line with such great sadness that Rico could feel the depths of his loneliness as if it were his own.  
“What’re you saying to me Joe?” 

“What I’m saying is most of those folks: men, women, whoever. All they wanted was to get with me but what I wanted was genuine. And that’s what I’ve got with you. So if you don’t wanna do anything right now I don’t mind.” 

Rico let himself slump against Joe’s chest so that he could look up into Joe’s face. He brought his hand up and gently stroked Joe’s face.  
“You’re so good you know that Joe, you deserve the world.” 

Joe grinned at him.  
“You gave me it boy, you seen where we live?”

Rico regarded him strangely.  
“In a little ground level flat, with pink walls and no proper bed?” He asked wryly.

Joe scoffed.  
“In a goddam tropical paradise right by the ocean, y’know I honest to god saw a genuine flamingo when I was working the other day.”

Rico couldn’t help but smile, then he remembered.  
“Don’t you have work today?” 

Joe sat up suddenly.  
“Shit your right, I’m supposed to be moving this old lady’s plants today.” He got up quickly and began pulling on his work clothes. “Her husband died so now she’s moving into one of those, whatchu call it, retirement homes and wants to take half her garden with her.” 

In spite of himself, Rico allowed himself to relax as Joe’s inane chatter washed over him, calming his thoughts the same way Joe listening to his radio did. 

“Sure, don’t do any extra work unless it gets you more money.” He said, but Joe was already hurrying out the door.

Rico stretched. Maybe I’ll get something nice for us from the grocery store, he thought idly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, I love seeing all your comments :)


	8. Five finger discount

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright this one is just exposition and Rico rationalising his feelings + getting clocked by other gay people at the store. There will be some good stuff next chapter trust me.

Rico finally got up at around 11am, after lounging in bed ruminating on his and Joe’s relationship for more time than he thought was probably healthy. What exactly did he want from Joe and vice versa. He had never really made a connection as serious as the one he had with Joe. Their lives were shared into one, he cooked because Joe needed feeding, Joe worked because he couldn’t. That had been the basic formula back in New York but now it was more than just give and take. It was all Rico had known for a very long time, people always wanted something in return. He was vaguely aware of the radio playing some song by Peggy Lee but wasn’t really listening. Rico didn’t honestly think he’d ever really allowed himself an awareness of his own desires. Back in New York he’d told Joe as such, ‘Now take your average fag: very few of ‘em want a cripple.’ The question of what he might want had been almost entirely put from his mind.

Rico pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. This line of thinking was getting him nowhere fast. His legs were a little wobbly today but he kept himself propped up by use of the sofa arm and the wall. Flicking on the bathroom light on, he braced against the sink for support. Then he saw his reflection. Rico’s face burned as he saw several red marks along his neck, his eyes darted away from the mirror in shame. Is this who you are now Enrico? Some simpering little fag who gets love bites from his big cowboy innamorato. He shook his head as though attempting to disperse the thoughts. Joe’s right we live in goddamn paradise and I can’t enjoy one single good thing that comes my way without thinking it’s bad. 

He brushed his teeth and pulled the little plastic stool Joe had swiped of the pier into the shower with him. He hadn’t really had a chance to think about his dream until now, hadn’t had chance. Was it something to do with how he wanted to smoke but couldn’t do he wanted things he couldn’t have? Or was that he’d overindulged throughout his life until he got sick, so even if he wanted something really bad he couldn’t have it because he’d be punished. He shook his head again, or maybe it’s just dumb dreams you goddamn meshuggeneh. He shuddered as turned the dial to cold and roughly washed his hair.

It was noon by the time he’d wheeled himself to the Kash n’ Karry grocery store. He huffed in frustration, having to button his shirt up all the way up in this heat certainly wasn’t helping his mood. After puttering around the store for a little while he managed to pick up: rice, a tin of kidney beans, a tin of chopped tomatoes and some chilli powder that he didn’t pay for. He knew Joe would probably whine that there was no real meat in it, but he would still eat it. 

“Hey there!” 

He tensed up at the unexpected greeting, he only just got out of store and was more than a little jumpy so feigned ignorance at hearing whoever had just called him.

“Hey I’m talking to you.” Ramone said, walking over to him. “I didn’t get your name yesterday?” 

Rico noted that they were wearing a beige wrist brace when they hadn’t the day previous. He narrowed his eyes.  
“What’s it to you?”

Ramone grinned.  
“You New Yorkers sure are friendly ain’t you, come on man what’s your name?”

Rico wasn’t used to this, aside from when he first met Joe, people didn’t generally want to know him. And even in rare cases they did, they made some excuse when they saw his leg. But I guess you’ve got plenty in common in more ways than one huh Enrico.

“It’s Rico Rizzo.” He said simply. 

“Well I’m Ramone Piltz, like I said before, I would shake your hand but -“ They raised their braced wrist. “Your friend not around today?”  
“Who Joe?” He asked, as if he knew anyone else.

“Tall guy?” Ramone asked, raising their hand above themself in an indication of how tall Joe was. 

“Yeah that’s him. Joe does gardening work everyday ‘cept Sunday.”

“Huh, you two live together then?” They said casually.

Rico jumped in his chair.  
“Hey now, who said anything about that?” He demanded.

“Relax man, it just makes sense with you knowing his work schedule and all.” They propped their foot up against a low wall. “Sides employment opportunities for the disabled aren’t great in this city so cohabitating makes sense.” 

Rico forced himself to relax. He didn’t like this butch chick assuming things about him, even if they were technically true.  
“What’s it matter to you?”

Ramone smiled wryly and slumped down on the wall so that they were eye-level with Rico.  
“Look I know we’ve got to be mean to stop people stepping on us because they think we’re weak, but we don’t need to be like that with each other.” They pointed at themselves and then at Rico as they spoke. 

“You know me that well huh, you some kind of psychoanalyst?” Oddly Rico didn’t find himself getting angry, the arguing almost felt familiar. 

Ramone laughed.  
“A psychoanalyst! That’s good. Y’know Freud had a lot to say about the way we present ourselves versus our true selves.” 

Rico eyed them warily.  
“Yeah I’ll bet.”

“Although he went back on a lot of stuff he said later in his life.” 

Rico found himself tapping his fingers on his arm rest. What he wouldn’t give for a cigarette to soothe his nerves right about now.

“Take homosexuality for example, before he thought that it was some kinda inversion y’know -“

I really should leave, he thought, he had no idea why he was still listening to this weird little dyke but he was.

“ - that you could cure by basically just having some guy tell you weren’t and then apparently believing it.” They paused and looked pointedly at Rico. “Which doesn’t work by the way.” They pushed a hand through their short, dark brown hair. “Then later, he decided it wasn’t anything that could be changed and that everyone’s probably born bisexual and then just goes either way.”

“Or doesn’t.” He found himself saying, why the hell did he say that? Was he thinking about Joe?

“Yeah sure or doesn’t. I’m not too hot on Freud myself but it’s nice to have the word of one medical professional who doesn’t think I’m a freak. I get that enough having my syndrome.” 

Before Rico could ask, Ramone had hopped up from the wall. 

“See you on Saturday Rico and bring your friend.” And with that they left with a wave.


	9. Save a horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s NSFW in this one. Happy Valentine’s.

The working week had come and gone. The days melding into one another without incident until all of a sudden, it was Saturday morning again. Rico shivered and allowed himself to huddle closer to Joe. The two men were still a little cautious and unsure of how to act around each other but late in the evening they spoke together softly, as though someone might hear them, about things they’d never told anyone. For Joe the boundaries between innocence, platonic affection and sexuality had always been a little blurred. From what Rico understood Joe seemed to have had more lovers than friends, and any individuals he’d become genuinely attached to never seemed to feel the same way. 

“What about Annie?” Rico asked, his voice seemingly disembodied in the darkness.

Joe was quiet for a long time.  
“Annie was like me I think. Like me before I was -“ He paused struggling to articulate what he meant. “I mean, I kinda became like her afterwards, which makes me think something bad must’ve happened to her and that’s why they sent her away.” 

Rico had gotten used to Joe’s strange way of phrasing things by now. Joe had still only told him in bits and pieces what had happened to him back in Texas but Rico figured it certainly accounted for the nightmares he still had now and again.

“I don’t think she’d had a friend in her whole entire life. It was like it was the only way she knew how to get people to like her.” His voice shook slightly. 

“Aw, Jesus, Joe c’mere.” Rico was shorter than Joe by a fair margin but he still pulled him down to his chest and cradled his head as he cried. Despite himself Rico felt guilt gnawing at him.

“We’re friends ain’t we?” He felt Joe nod his head.

“Yeah we’re friends, you looked out for me even when you didn’t have to.” Said Joe. He gave a slightly wet chuckle abruptly. “Took my boots off so I could sleep.” 

Rico scoffed. “As if you remember that.” 

This morning however, Rico noted that it was colder than it had been. He folded his arms closer together and rested his head under Joe’s chin.

“Little cold today.”

“Yeah it’s mild, raining I think.” Replied Joe.

Distantly Rico was aware of the sound of rain outside, barely audible over the sound of the quitely playing radio that Joe insisted on leaving on at night. He shivered again, closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Joe’s sternum. 

“Don’t like the rain. The goddam damp gets into my bones.” He grumbled. 

Quite rudely in Rico’s opinion, Joe picked that moment to shift away and propped himself up on his elbow to look down at him.

“You want me to help you do your stretches before I go to work?”

Rico looked up at him with one annoyed eye, the other remained closed.  
“Yeah sure.” He mumbled. 

Back in the hospital, a nurse had instructed him as a ‘post-polio survivor’ that he should try several stretches to relieve pain. She’d even given him a pamphlet, he really wished people would stop giving him pamphlets. Rico adjusted himself against the sofa arm as Joe helped him stretch his weaker leg. Still drowsy he felt Joe’s hand on his skinnier calf, pushing his knee towards his body. He probably could’ve done this himself if he was honest, in fact he did sometimes when the cramping in his leg got too bad. It just wasn’t something he’d done a lot before Joe, which probably accounted for a lot of the pain. 

Rico felt himself a rush of heat, starting from his stomach, moving outwards into his face and hands. Building and building as Joe placed his other hand under Rico’s thigh to push his leg further back towards his chest. He tried not to think about their position and what sort of imagery that cooked up. Joe shirtless, with his hand on his thigh, looming over him. Rico mentally shooed the thought away.

Joe grinned slyly at him.  
“Whatchu’ thinkin about?”

“What?”

“Sometimes you get this sorta glazed over look and then you spook, once you come back to yourself.”

Rico’s cheeks burned.  
“My eyes don’t glaze over, do they?” He asked hotly.

Joe grin widened and he leaned in closer, one big hand still framing Rico’s thigh, as his other free hand pushed up his vest.

“Uh-huh, yeah they do, then you catch yourself and do your alley cat impression.”

Rico was just starting to let himself enjoy the thrill of Joe trying to undress him.  
“Alley cat?!” He spluttered incredulously.

Joe nuzzled into his neck further.  
“Yeah you get your - whatchu call it - hackles all raised up.” 

Before Rico could retort back, Joe’s foot slipped against the bed spread kicking radio, knocking the volume button, from where it was placed next to their sofa bed. 

“Go-oood morning Miami, it is a rainy day out there, with temperatures averaging at a chilly fifty-five degrees. But don’t let the weather put a damper on your spirits especially on Valentine’s Day of all days! So get ready for all day listening to some of the greatest love songs of all time. - Here to start you off it’s ‘Can’t take my eyes off you’ by Frankie Vali & The Four Seasons!” 

“Oh yeah I forgot it was Valentine’s today.” Said Joe, resting his head against Rico’s shoulder as the song washed over them.

Rico, who much to his own annoyance still had most of the saint’s days permanently memorised, hadn’t forgotten. He was about to tell Joe that it was all just some sham to sell chocolates and flowers, when Joe slotted himself up against his chest and shut him up with a kiss, and began kissing his neck and clavicle. He was so close that there was almost no part of either of them that wasn’t touching. Rico hooked his arms over Joe’s shoulders and let himself be kissed, vaguely aware of the song changing to something called ‘a whole lot of loving.’

Suddenly he yelped as Joe bit his collarbone, actually genuinely bit him. Not particularly hard, but he still did it. Rico pulled away.  
“Don’t do that, you son-of-a-bitch, I won’t tell you again.” 

Joe snickered.  
“Aw I’m sorry.” He said, not sounding sorry at all. 

Joe peppered Rico’s jaw and neck with small, playful kisses. Rico forced himself to not react, out of sheer petulance. Eventually he allowed his hand to come up and stroke along Joe’s jawline, and thread into his hair as he leaned in and kissed his mouth. He felt Joe smile against his lips and kiss him back, before breaking away. He wrapped his arms around him and Rico did the same, as Joe nestled his cheek against his. It occurred to him then that he couldn’t feel any pain in his chest as Joe pressed up against him: maybe not smoking was the right idea, maybe he wouldn’t be sick his entire life, maybe this right here was good for him. 

“Hey - “ Joe murmured against his shoulder. “- I really am sorry for biting you before.”

Rico blushed.  
“Christ Joe, you can’t just - it’s fine, it doesn’t matter.” He said.

“I just got a little eager, was all.” 

Rico didn’t miss Joe’s hand trailing further up his chest, he gave his friend a sidelong look.  
“I’ve really been stringing you along huh?” He said wryly.

Joe paused in his ministrations.  
“No you ain’t, I already said -“

“I’m just kidding Joe.” Said Rico, his fingers carding through Joe’s blond hair.

Joe huffed.  
“You sure do think you’re funny don’t ya.”

Rico grinned in response. Joe’s hair was getting a little shaggy, he noted, he’d have to cut it at some point. 

“Hey, you wanna maybe…” Joe trailed off.

Rico swallowed and tried to quieten his mind’s running commentary. It’s already eight O’ clock in the morning, Joe might be late for work if he hangs around any longer, but he also didn’t wanna disappoint Joe if he didn’t last long. The more he rationalised it the more it got blown out of proportion. Until suddenly he had an epiphany; it didn’t matter. It would just be another part of their relationship, which is what this was goddamn it. He nodded and Joe stared at him wide-eyed. 

“You sure?”

Rico rolled his eyes.  
“Yes, I’m sure.”

Joe’s whole face lit up, brighter than the Miami sunrise.  
“Okay, alright, alright.” He said giddily, before catching himself. “What do you wanna do, I mean what sounds good -“

Rico slumped back against the pillows in exasperation.  
“Jesus, did you do this with customers back in New York. Go case by case, is this why we never made any money?” 

Joe frowned at him but Rico could tell he wasn’t really angry.  
“Alright boy, if that’s how you're gonna be.” 

Rico gave a mixture of a yelp and a laugh as he was hoisted up unexpectedly. Joe sat back and proceeded to scoop him up onto his lap. Once he was sitting, Joe’s hand twisted the material of his vest, the other reached down into his pants and takes a hold of him. 

Rico accidentally yanked Joe’s head when he pulled on his hair, he smoothed it back down apologetically.  
“Oh Christ, oh Joe…”

“You like that?” 

Joe has asked him a lot of dumb stuff on occasion but that’s gotta be up there in the obvious questions hall of fame. Rico just nodded emphatically in response. I really think I would do anything for him right now, anything at all. A deeply embarrassing fantasy crept into his head, one that had started cropping up after he shined Joe’s boots that time.

“Joe y’know I’d get on my knees for you, if you wanted, you handsome son-of-a-bitch.” 

Joe’s “Huh!?” Was so cartoonish, that Rico couldn’t help but laugh. It was truly a joyous sound, not his usual cynical chuckle, until it cut off abruptly as he bit his thumb to stop himself from yelling right in Joe’s ear as he came. His head lolled onto Joe’s sweat-slick shoulder and he closed his eyes in exhaustion.

“Goddamn.” Said Joe after a stunned second. “What was that you said just now?” 

“I said you were a handsome son-of-a-bitch.” Replied Rico, using flattery like a shiny toy to distract Joe away from the topic. 

Joe grinned smugly.  
“Oh you think so.”

Rico looked at him softly and threaded his hand through Joe’s hair again.  
“Yeah.”

Joe seemed slightly thrown off by his sincerity and smiled uncertainly back at him, ducking his head bashfully. 

Still feeling slightly electrified, Rico traces his hand down Joe’s stomach, marvelling at the newness of all sensation. 

“Hey, can I help you out with that?” He asked, as he laid his hand on Joe’s crotch.

He hears Joe inhale sharply and gets a strange thrill from being in charge of this big, 6ft tall cowboy. 

“Lay back for me?” He barely touches his fingertips to Joe’s sternum before he complies, leaving Rico straddling his waist. He stares down at the expanse of Joe’s flushed, broad chest and lowers his head down to kiss him and rub his face across his pectorals, slotting his thigh between Joe’s legs; causing Joe’s head to tip back. 

“Damn.” Joe huffs raggedly, thrusting up against Rico’s leg. He gripped Rico's hips so that he was positioned better. Rico propped himself back up to look down at Joe who was now looking pretty wrecked, he eased off a little and took Joe’s cock out of his briefs and started to stroke, still resting against his pelvis because the slight elevation meant his leg ached a little less. The rocking motion created by Joe thrusting up into his hand made a sudden, silly thought occurred to him and he had to bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing. All of a sudden Joe went rigid under him as he spilled over this hand, heaving a shaky sigh. 

“Thanks for that Joe.” Said Rico, grimacing at his hand.

“You’re welcome.” Joe replied earnestly.

Rico couldn’t help but laugh fondly at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope all the people who liked my previous fix will like this one, thank you for your comments they really spurred me on. :)


End file.
